


Days to be Remembered

by I_can_only_imagine



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Under the Red Hood (2010), Red Hood: Lost Days
Genre: Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy Birthday Alfred Pennyworth, Happy Birthday Jason Todd, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Mild Hurt/Comfort, background alfred/jim, birthday fic, platonic co sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 06:35:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25948939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_can_only_imagine/pseuds/I_can_only_imagine
Summary: Five birthdays Alfred and Jason remembered the most throughout their lives.
Relationships: Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne
Comments: 2
Kudos: 63





	1. First

**(Jason)**

Jason’s first birthday that he could remember was his third birthday.

Their little family of three sat around the table in their studio apartment, Jason sitting in one of their two chairs with his mom in the other. She was taking pictures with the cheap Polaroid camera his father had stolen for her from the thrift store down the street. His father was walking over slowly with the cupcake he had nabbed from a bakery a few streets down, his lighter held in his other hand lit while he and his mom sang.

Jason remembered grinning like crazy. It had been a long time since he had seen his father with so much energy, not worn down from long hours at the carwash. It had been a long time since his parents had been in the same room without screaming at each other.

“Go ahead and blow it out,” his father instructed with a smile. Jason smiled back at him for a second more before leaning forward and blowing on the lighter. His father’s thumb slipped off of the red button, and the flame went out.

“Eat up baby,” his mom said, nodding to the cupcake.

“But I wanna share it,” Jason said.

Both of his parents laughed, his father gently squeezing his shoulders in a hug. His mom gave in after Jason’s serious and pouting stare was turned from his father onto her, and got out a butter knife from the drawer in the kitchen. She carefully divided the cupcake into three equal sections, and handed one section off to his father.

“You gotta finish your cupcake before we can play, okay?’ his father said. Jason nodded enthusiastically, digging into his cupcake without further prompting.

It was the first time he had ever had cake. And the last time for another eight years. It was sweet, soft and easy to chew. He decided that he liked it, but that he wouldn’t have been able to eat another bite more than the third of the cupcake he had been given. It was too sweet, and as much as he liked it, he knew from experience with the cookie his dad had given him a few months before that it would make him sick if he wasn’t careful.

When he was finished, his dad had gently bopped him on the nose, saying he was it, and gave Jason a five second head start to chase him around the apartment.

Jason didn’t remember what happened after that. All he knew was one moment he was running away from his dad, giggling and tumbling, and the next he was opening his eyes in a hospital bed.

His mom would explain to him when he was older that when his father caught him, he had lost consciousness without warning. He had stopped breathing.

His lungs had been severely underdeveloped when he was born, but they didn’t have the money to treat him. For a long time, they had been fine, but that day on his third birthday, a walking pneumonia they hadn’t realized he had contracted nearly killed him.

When he woke up, it was August 17th, and his birthday was over.

**(Alfred)**

Alfred had already had twenty eight birthdays by the time he signed his contract with the Wayne’s and left his job with the royal family to go to america.

Unlike most people he had known growing up, he had never had any desire to go to america. But the Waynes had seemed nice enough, and as much as he knew he would miss his home in the palace waiting on the queen, he had a feeling something great was waiting for him in Gotham.

His twenty ninth birthday came around on August 16th, and he received a brief call from the queen to wish him a happy day.

He did not know which Wayne had overheard the call, but that night at dinner Martha had practically forced him to sit down at the table with them while she ran into the kitchen. When he had looked to Thomas questioningly, Thomas had just grinned and shrugged.

The lights flicked off and Alfred looked around in confusion before his eyes caught on the doorway to the kitchen.

Martha Kane-Wayne in all her glory stood there with a cake in her hands with the number “29” in candles on top. Before his brain could catch up with what was happening, Martha, Thomas and the rest of the house staff who had entered without his notice launched into a chorus of “Happy Birthday.”

Alfred stared down at the cake when it was finally placed in front of him after the song’s end and felt more out of his depth than he ever had before.

“I tried to bake you one myself, but I think you can guess how well that went,” Martha hummed, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Happy Birthday friend.”

“Thank you,” Alfred finally managed. He looked around him, at his new family, and knew coming to America was the right choice.

He blew out the candles, and as elementary as it might have been, he made a wish. A wish for this to never change.


	2. Second

**(Jason)**

Jason’s fourth birthday came and went without celebration or event.

He wished the same could be said about his fifth.

His mom wasn’t working on his fifth birthday like she had been his fourth. She stayed home with him, which would later cost her her entire job, but she didn’t seem to care about that detail.

She sat curled up with him on their ratty couch, holding him close and kissing his head every few minutes while she read him  _ Pride and Prejudice  _ for the fourth time he could remember. It only seemed to get better every time she read it to him, new details popping out with the understanding that came with age.

It was a peaceful day that led into a peaceful night.

Jason was content in doing nothing else.

Then the door to the apartment burst open. His father and two of his friends were rushing in, his friends supporting his weight between them. Noise had filled the apartment as his mom ran to them and started examining his father. He snapped at her for getting too close, and in a blink his mom was on the floor holding her cheek tight.

Bloodstains from that night remained on the carpet until Jason finally tore it up when he was eight. It was all his father’s blood as they worked on getting two bullets out of him.

Sirens were added to the noise, and then more yelling when cops came through the same door his father had.

Jason had watched from the corner of the living room, held protectively in his mother’s arms, as the police tackled his father and his friends to the ground, cuffed them, and pulled them out of the apartment without another word.

**(Alfred)**

“Bruce, say Happy Birthday to Alfred,” Martha’s voice woke Alfred.

He blinked his eyes open and found a three year old Bruce Wayne sitting on his chest, giggling with his chubby hands clutched tightly in Alfred’s night shirt.

“Good morning Master Bruce,” Alfred said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He was careful as he sat up, arms coming up to catch the toddler when he inevitably fell back.

“Happy birthday Alfred,” Marthda said. “I’m sorry Thomas and I can’t be home for all of it.”

“It is quite alright Mistress Martha,” Alfred reassured, keeping his eyes on the toddler who was playing with his mustache.

“Remember dear friend, you are under no circumstances allowed to work today,” Martha said. “I won't have it.”

“Then what will you have me do?” Alfred asked, finally pulling his eyes away from the boy to look up at Martha.

“Take Bruce to the park,” she suggested. “Or visit a friend in town. Anything but working.”

“As you wish,” Alfred said. He shook his head in exasperation after the woman kissed him and Bruce’s head then wandered out of the room. He was sure she and Thomas would be the death of him with their sentiments.

He was never sure why that birthday, his thirty third one, stuck in his mind so well. Nothing remarkable happened, and it was six years before the events of that awful night in Crime Alley. For some reason he could never place, the memory of him and Bruce in the park that day eating a picnic he had prepared while they watched the birds was one of his favorite memories by far.


	3. Third

**(Jason)**

Jason couldn’t remember his eighth, ninth, tenth, or eleventh birthday.

The first of the four he knew was probably spent caring for his mom and making sure she didn’t drown in her vomit, swallow her tongue or starve to death.

The second was spent in a foster home, he knew that, but he didn’t know which one out of the five he circled through that year before ending up on the streets.

The last two he was homeless for, and had no way of knowing he was one year older until he caught a date on a headline.

He couldn’t decide if it was a good or bad thing that he couldn’t remember any of them. With his sixth and seventh birthdays being disasters in their own right—though not as much as his third or fifth—he wasn’t sure he wanted a birthday at all.

August 16th was just another unremarkable day that didn’t matter in Jason’s plague of a life. Birthdays didn’t matter when your life wouldn’t be remembered.

He had told Mr. Wayne all of this when he felt comfortable enough to share the date of his birth.

He knew he had to have said or done something wrong, because Mr. Wayne’s eyes widened and he didn’t speak for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry,” Jason mumbled, looking down. He was sure if he had a dime for every time he had apologized in life for something he didn’t do or something he didn’t know about, his family wouldn’t have lived in Park Row.

“Don’t be sorry Jason, you didn’t do anything wrong,” Mr. Wayne said. “I’m just a little surprised is all. Your birthday is in a few days then?”

Jason nodded. It was August 10th, which meant there was only a little under a week until he turned twelve.

“That’s good to know. Thank you for telling me,” Mr. Wayne said. “Can you please tell Alfred? I’m sure he would be happy to know.”

Jason nodded again. He did that a lot in Wayne Manor, especially when Mr. Wayne and Alfred showed him so much easy and unconditional kindness. He didn’t know what to say to it, so he just nodded.

Jason went down to the kitchen where he knew he would find the elderly butler already working on dinner. He sat down at the kitchen island without a word. He knew even if he hadn’t said anything that the butler knew he was there.

Eventually Alfred finished what he was doing and took a seat beside Jason, whipping his hands on a dish towel.

“What is it you need dear boy? You seem troubled,” Alfred said.

“Mr. Wayne wanted me to tell you my birthday is in a few days,” Jason said with a slight shrug, “He said you would want to know.”

“What day is it?”

“August 16th.”

Alfred went quiet just like Mr. Wayne had, but it didn’t last as long. His face lit up in the biggest smile Jason had seen on the man.

“It appears we share a birthday then,” Alfred said.

Just like that, six days later, Jason found himself sitting on Alfred’s lap at the head of the table while Bruce, Kate, Bette, Barbara, Leslie and Commissioner Gordon sang happy birthday to them both.

Jason found that sharing his birthday with his new quasi grandfather was all he needed to enjoy the day.

**(Alfred)**

Alfred didn’t want to celebrate his thirty eighth birthday.

It had only been fifty one days since he dearest friends had passed, and all he wanted to do was rest. For the first time in ten years, he didn’t argue the order not to work on his birthday, as he knew even getting out of bed would hurt too much.

He was thankful for Jacob and Gabi Kane. They had surely known how much pain this day would bring to Alfred, and had agreed to take Bruce for the day so he could spend time with his cousins.

Bruce, of course, being the bright young lad he was, had quickly figured out the real reason for him staying with his aunt and uncle the night before, when they were picking him up.

He had fought, and yelled at his aunt and uncle, and clung to Alfred for dear life. He said over and over that he couldn’t leave Alfred alone on his birthday, not that year. He had kept fighting until he looked up at Alfred and saw the poorly masked agony on his face. After that, Bruce had hugged Alfred tightly, and gone peacefully without another word.

So there Alfred laid, completely alone in the manor and for once in his life allowing himself to wallow in his own pain.

He didn’t know how long he laid there, or what time it was when he was finally brought out of it by a hand landing on his shoulder.

He turned away from the wall he had been facing and found none other than Jim Gordon staring down at him.

Alfred didn’t say anything. He didn’t have to. Neither did Jim.

He rolled over and scooted so that the side of the bed Jim was on was free. Jim kicked off his shoes and took the invitation. Before he knew it, Alfred was leaning into the man’s hold and closing his eyes.

The last thing he knew before drifting off was Jim’s soft whisper of “happy birthday,” and the kiss that landed on his head.


	4. Fourth

(Jason)  
“Jaylad,” his dad’s voice called, gradually pulling Jason from his sleep. “Jaylad, it’s time to get up.”  
“Dun’ wanna,” Jason slurred, pulling the blanket farther over his head.  
His dad chuckled, the sound vibrating across Jason’s skin, and gently pulled the blanket down again. Before Jason could try and pull the second blanket over his head, there was movement under him followed by the feeling of weightlessness.  
Which is when he realized he wasn’t in bed at all, and what he was pulling on hadn’t been a blanket. He had fallen asleep on Bruce’s lap at the batcomputer, both his own and his dad’s cape pulled over him for warmth. The feeling of weightlessness had been caused by Bruce standing to carry him up the stairs and into the house.  
Jason caught a glimpse of the time on the grandfather clock as it closed behind them and saw that it was around 5 a.m..  
He had slept for five hours then.  
“Happy birthday Jaylad,” Bruce whispered as he carried him through the halls,  
“Thank you Dad,” Jason mumbled, curling more into Bruce’s chest.  
“Alfred is going to have my head for letting you sleep in the cave the night before your birthday,” Bruce said.  
“That I will,” Alfred’s voice startled Bruce based on his jolt. Bruce turned and Alfred was there, still in his pajamas, with his arms crossed over his chest. It was rare that Jason saw the man outside of his butler uniform, but it was one of Bruce’s rules as master of the house that Alfred couldn’t work on his birthday—a rule Jason had learned over the past two years to hate just as much as Alfred as Bruce didn’t let him go out as Robin all twenty four hours of August 16th.  
“Happy birthday Alfie,” Jason mumbled, giving Alfred a sleepy smile.  
“Happy birthday my dear boy,” Alfred smiled in return. He uncrossed his arms and held them out expectantly. His dad hesitated, his grip on Jason tightening for just a second, before he pressed a kiss to his temple and handed him over to his grandfather.  
Alfred ran a hand through Jason’s hair and held him close, and Jason could feel all of his tension drain away. Jason smiled a little wider and snuggled into Alfred’s arms when he carried him to his room and laid down in his bed with him.  
He had been trying for three years to break Jason of his co sleeping habits caused by being raised in a studio apartment with a pull out bed. He had been partly successful, with Jason now being able to fall asleep in a room alone, but he still tended to have panic attacks when he woke up alone in the middle of the night, and often seeked out Bruce when they got too bad. Their birthday happened to be the only day of the year Alfred would sleep in bed with him.  
It was also the one day of the year Alfred was willing to sleep in later than 5:30 a.m. which meant Jason got to sleep in later with him.  
Alfred fell back asleep first, but Jason wasn’t far behind. When he felt the strings of his consciousness slip away, he made a wish, even though he knew that was supposed to be saved for candles. He wished for this to never change.

(Alfred)  
“I would like to request tomorrow off,” Alfred said.  
Bruce looked up from his newspaper, eyebrows furrowed when he spoke, “Alfred, you always have your birthday off. You don’t have to request it.”  
“I am aware,” Alfred nodded. “But I wanted to be sure you knew I would not be in the manor for the entire day. I will return before dinner with Master Dick though.”  
“Thank you for telling me,” Bruce said. ”Will you be going out with Commissioner Gordon?”  
“We will be meeting for breakfast.”  
“It’s been a long time since you two had alone time,” Brcue said, his expression softening by a bit. “Have fun.”  
“We will try,” Alfred gave a slight bow, and left the dining room.  
Bruce never had to know that Alfred had not gone to his bedroom, but to Jason’s.  
Alfred had enjoyed their shared birthday for a multitude of reasons. He would never admit that one of those reasons was that he always slept better on those two nights in those twenty four hours when he allowed Jason to indulge in his co sleeping habits.  
When Alfred woke around 8 a.m. he quickly dressed and left for his breakfast with Jim.  
Their breakfast was held at a cafe not far from the GCPD station, where they chose to sit outside at a table in the slightly chilled air. Jim carried most of the conversation, knowing Alfred was too emotionally tired to do so at the moment. When they parted, Jim surprised him with a ghost of a kiss and a soft smile.  
“We need to go out together more often,” Jim said.  
“We do,” Alfred agreed. They didn't speak of further plans, or make promises they couldn’t keep. That had been the issue with their first attempt at a relationship, not emntioning the act of being a same sex couple in that time. They were both busy men, but they would always find a way to make time for each other, even if that time was months and years apart.  
Jim walked Alfred to his car, and kissed him one last time before Alfred drove away.  
He stopped by the bookstore first. He needed to pick out a birthday present for Jason, and had waited until the last minute, something very unlike him. He ended up buying copies of Persuasion and Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen, and the Hamlet, Macbeth, and King Lear editions of No Fear Shakespeare. He of course knew Jason loved to read the shakespearean plays in their original form, and was intelligent enough to have understood everything that happened in them without the modern english adaptations, but he also knew Jason had been eyeing these editions for months.  
Alfred then took a stop at a flower stand, grabbing a bouquet of white lilies and whire roses, then took a stop by a chili dog stand. He carefully wrapped his chili dog to save for lunch, and drove across Gotham to his true destination.  
Jason Todd-Wayne. Loving son, grandson, and friend. May you rest in the light.  
Alfred took a seat in the grass in front of the four month old grave. He first laid the books down, then the flowers, and smiled.  
“My dear, sweet boy,” Alfred said. No one was there to see it, so he let the tears silently fall down his cheeks and into the grass. “Happy birthday. Fifteen is quite the special year. Master Dick has told me sophmore year was his favorite. I’m not sure you would enjoy your reading list, so I brought you some books to read on the side to keep your wits about you.”  
How Alfred wished he were spending his birthday in a park like he had his thirty third, and not in a graveyard where his grandson had been buried next to a woman he had only known for a day.


	5. Fifth

(Jason)  
“Happy birthday,” Talia said the moment Jason entered the breakfast nook. Jason didn’t reply. He never did. He was still trapped inside his own head, even after ten months of living with the infamous and dangerous al Ghul woman.  
“You will not be training today,” she said casually, placing a plate filled with food in front of him. “Damian has come down with a cold and hasn’t stopped crying since he woke up. Fevers always make him so upset. He’s asking that you read to him.”  
Jason sagged his head, the closest he could seem to get to a nod, and began hollowly eating his food.  
Deep in the back of his mind where his true consciousness was trapped, he wondered if the food he was eating was the same as what Alfred was having in Gotham. He wondered how Alfred was spending his birthday, and hoped the answer was with Bruce, Jim, and/or Dick.  
Time blinked by. He never could follow how fast or slow it moved when he was like this, and had long since given up on trying to.  
He was in Damian’s room. The book he selected from Talia’s library to read to the boy was Pride and Prejudice, a book he was sure the woman had bought only for him.  
He settled Damian on his lap, and started to read the story he had read a million times a knew by heart.  
Time passed slowly then, and Jason’s mind was spinning with fear that he would be trapped in that moment forever.  
“Happy birthday Jayjay,” the young boy in his lap said when he reached the end of one of the chapters, jolting time back to the right speed. Jason distantly felt a kiss on his cheek, but didn’t react to it. He couldn’t.  
When he regained control of his body, he hoped to bring Damian to Gotham with him, where he could truly spend his birthday with the boy, and with the grandfather he was sure he would always miss so dearly this time of year.

(Alfred)  
A clattering down stairs stopped Alfred in his walk halfway to Jason’s room.  
He didn’t hesitate in turning around to head back down, and would never admit to running to his destination.  
In the breakfast nook he found the door to the backyard open, and the broad man standing froze by the fluttering curtains. He was a man now, wasn’t he? He was nineteen, only a few months past the reveal of his status of being alive.  
Bruce had been tracking him, hunting him. Dick, Tim, and Cassandra alike had been helping him in his desperate search, but they had all come up empty handed. Alfred had never thought he would be the first one to see the boy—the man—again.  
“Oh my,” Alfred whispered. He was shaking, he was sure he was, and he prayed to the lord who was supposed to be protecting his boy that he couldn’t see it.  
Jason backed up, eyes fearful, and only seemed all the more startled when his back was met by the glass of the doors. He was breathing quickly, irregularly. When he shook his head, Alfred could see the still healing, gruesome wound on his throat.  
“My dear, sweet boy,” Alfred whispered those words he always did when he found Jason like this as a child. Panicking, scared, and looking too lost and alone for a child he loved so much. They were the same words Alfred said at his grave only four years before.  
“It’s okay,” he assured. “I will not tell your father or siblings you are here.”  
Jason only shook his head again, but it seemed more hesitant. More blue was slipping into those cursed, unnaturally green and glowing eyes. Jason was shaking less, but Alfred knew he would still run the moment he felt threatened or cornered again.  
“It’s okay,” Alfred repeated, holding open his arms.  
Alfred waited while Jason seemed to debate his options. Jason came to a decision, and only hesitated another second before beralling into his arms. Alfred stumbled the slightest bit, but held onto the boy—because time be damned he was still just a boy—as tightly as he could.  
There were only a few hours left in August 16th, but Alfred was still glad he got to spend them with the only person he had truly wanted to for years. Even if Jason had to disappear from the bed in the morning before Alfred awoke.


End file.
